


Thread and a Hook

by screamingbats



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Animal Death, Blood and Injury, Fantrolls, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lusus death, Other, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29317929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingbats/pseuds/screamingbats
Summary: Wulver meets a simple troll, who will end up completely changing the course of his life. Whether that's for better, or for worse.
Relationships: Wulver Lhuisp/Drilus Phuren





	Thread and a Hook

You perched in the tree above the river, watching and listening carefully. The leaves rustle in the breeze, chirpbeasts sing in the distance. But that is not why you are here. Your name is Wulver, and you are a predator stalking its prey. And this lone mutant has no chance. 

You can hear the crunching of leaves, and a soft hum. They're here. You ready yourself to take control of their mind, lead them to the maws of your mother and to what is certainly their death. 

But then your foot slips off the branch. Before you know it, your entire body is sliding down. You tumble through the air with "grace", your limbs slamming into other stray sticks and branches on the way down, snapping them as you go. You hit the ground with a thud, every thought in your mind vanishes, and the wind is knocked out of your chest. Your vision goes black. 

When you wake up, there they are. Right over you. Inches away from your own face. Curly hair, and bright, wide eyes that seem to seize your own. They gasp, grabbing your face. 

"Oh!! Oh… Oh my gosh-" 

They wheezed, turning their head to cough, then turning back to look at you and grin. 

"You're okay! Oh geez, I thought when you hit the ground you… you were a goner! That was a big fall, you know that?" 

You blink, staring up at them. 

First of all, you're alive. Second of all, the troll you were about to technically kill is right above you, excitedly cheering that you're alive. You grimace a bit. Because of the sharp pain in your back or the awkwardness of this whole ordeal? You aren't sure. 

They tilt their head, still holding your face tightly. 

"You okay, there?" 

… You wouldn't admit it, but the feeling is nice. Their hands are surprisingly soft. Despite that, the troll is kinda smothering you. And that is certainly not what you came here for. "You're uh. Kinda grabbing my face." 

"Oh!" 

They let go, and your head falls back against the dirt. 

"Oh, shoot, I'm sorry! I guess that was probably weird of me. I'm sorry, I'm not used to… Y'know, havin a troll around." 

They got up onto their feet, bending down and offering you a hand. 

You stare at the hand for a few moments, then decide to get up without their help, wincing as you push yourself off the ground. They put their hand back down by their side, brushing their pants awkwardly. 

"Um… I'm Drilus, by the way! What's your name...?" 

… You decide not to respond. They stare at you for a painfully long time, before realizing you aren't gonna budge. "Oh, okay! You don't like talking much, huh?" 

You caution a nod, glancing away. Gog, what the hell are you doing? 

"Well… do you need help? You'll probably be bruising all over after that!" 

… You shake your head. Nobody helps you. Any 'help' you do accept is just a way to lure a troll in, before taking control and feeding Wolf-mom yet again. "Well… Okay, if you're sure. I guess I won't keep you long." 

You stare at them. You still need to take them. You have to. The sun will rise soon enough, and if you come back empty handed to her, you're as good as dead. But… Despite that, it feels wrong. You can't bring yourself to do it, as easy as it would be, to sink your claws into their mind, take control, and take their life. You could never imagine ending the life of a troll who held your face with hands as soft as that. 

They rub their arm, looking a bit nervous. Probably because you're still staring. With that, you sigh in defeat, turning away. Before you can leave, though, they pipe in again. 

"O-Oh! Um… Thanks, by the way." 

You pause, staring down at the ground. What the fuck are they talking about? 

"... For what?" 

"Well, for not reporting me to the drones, or culling me. Because I'm…" 

… Right. Of course. Mutant. You just shrug in response. 

"It doesn't matter." 

For some reason, your heart twists a bit. You can't help but feel guilty for what you were planning just moments before, which is amazing, considering how desensitized you've become to doing it… I mean, it's all you've known your whole life. Any troll you meet who doesn't nearly kill you won't have a chance. You don't linger on it for long before taking another step, then another, and walking away. You'll have to face your lusus eventually, and she doesn't like to be kept waiting. 

You don't know what you're doing. Your lungs rattle as you try to inhale, and burst into a coughing fit. Claw marks trail across your chest, and glass is embedded in your skin. There's blood everywhere. 

From you, from her, from the countless trolls who will never breathe again because of you. 

No, actually, it's not you. It's her. It's always been her. You're just the poor fucker who was cursed to be in her care, care being a very generous word. To be her lure, like a worm on a hook. That's all you ever were. 

That's certainly how you feel. 

The sun is rising, now. Your skin burns. The only reason you probably haven't been completely fried to a crisp is because of the dark clouds in the sky, blocking its rays, just enough to not kill you quite yet. 

It's like the universe keeps giving you ways to hang on by just a thread. First, the chance to run. Then the scuttlebuggy, which ended things for good. And now, the clouds. However, you have a feeling you are far from deserving of this metaphorical thread. Where was this thread for all the trolls she devoured without a second thought? Where was this thread when said trolls met you for the first and last time? 

Maybe you're just being taunted, and any second now, you'll keel over and die. 

Miraculously, though, you are still (barely) on your feet. And you are not dead just yet. Even if you don't deserve it, the instinct to live pushes you forward. Pushes you to go back to what started this specific chain of events. 

Your vision blurs as you lean against the cabin, hitting the door with as much force as you can muster. Which isn't much. Silence, then shuffling. Then clattering, but you barely register it. Your mind is spinning. Everything seems to blur together. The door cracks open, and their eyes peer through. Those bright, wide eyes. Your heart aches. If you hadn't fallen from that tree, those eyes would've never opened again. 

As soon as they recognize you, the door flings open. You stumble a bit. 

"O-Oh gosh! Are you okay?" 

You lean against the door frame. They seem unsure how to respond, even stepping back a bit. You can't tell if they're scared of you, or for you. You aren't quite sure if it matters. And for the first time, you say it. You say it, and you actually mean it. 

"My… my name's Wulver. I…" 

You swallow hard. The taste of copper is overwhelming, burning the back of your throat. 

"I need help." 

As your vision goes black, you can feel their hands grabbing onto you. Pulling you into safety, off of the hook, for what feels like the first time in your life. 


End file.
